No Regrets
by Chewsii
Summary: REPOST one shot:: Really depressing. Warnings for non-graphic femmeslash, cutting and suicide


Disclaimer: I don't own it, but I if I did, I would be a lot richer

Warnings: femmeslash, the f word, cutting and suicide

A/N: r/r will do wonders to my self esteem, thanks and enjoy

It's funny, isn't it? The thought of seeing a person can actually sustain you the entire day. I don't mean dating or anything like that, just a chat in the hall or a smile while passing. No, nothing like that. The very fact that they know you exist lifts you up, higher than the clouds. Just thinking that you will see them soon keeps you alive in the darkest of times.

That person was my best friend. I loved her. I would have died for her, just to prevent a little pain out of the mountains that each of us are dished out in life. My parents didn't think it was love. They just thought I was….being foolish. But they aren't me. I know it's love.

I had always loved Hermione. I tagged along at first to see Harry, but as I grew older, I began to wonder what it was I actually saw in him. At one point, he ruled my dreams; he rescued me from dangers and carried me off, like in a fairy tale or something. Ironically, after he did save me from actual danger in my first year, my dreams of him started to fade away. Once Hermione and I got a little closer, she became the one who visited me in my sleep. I have loved Hermione Granger for about three or four years. Kind of pathetic, right?

I was always the tagalong, the annoying little sister. She was the only one who payed attention to me. In fact, during those summers at the Burrow and at the Order Headquarters, she and I grew closer. I always loved the summer, and not just because there was no school, but because I had Hermione all to myself. During the term, she would always be too wrapped up in studying or saving the world with the bloody boy who fucking lived and my sorry excuse for a brother. Yeah, you could say I'm jealous.

Since she came to Hogwarts, Hermione always had a huge crush on my brother, Ron. Yeah, this really pissed me off. We would chat about our latest romantic interests (I would always make someone up) and she would always, without exception, mention Ron. I would inwardly fume with rage. I wanted to scream, "What does he have that I don't?" And then I would remember. He's a guy. Putting on my little happy girl mask, I would calmly listen and chat.

Anyway, the summer after Sirius died, I was in heaven. Don't think I am sick because I was happy that Sirius died. Hell no, I cried as much as everyone else. I was happy for different reasons. We were staying at headquarters and were basically unsupervised. Mom and Dad were off fighting Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters.

That summer, Ron was infatuated and possibly obsessed with a girl, Lavender Brown. Apparently he asked her out right before school ended, and they have been owling incessantly ever since. Every now and then, he sneaks out to Diagon alley, to almost certainly meet her. Hermione did not take this well. Every time she noticed he was missing, she would run up to her room and cry. Of course, who would be there for her? Me. Not my shit-head brother, not the goddamn boy wonder. So it became obvious very fast who her best friend was.

One day, Ron had a silly grin plastered on his face that refused to come off. We asked him why he was so happy, and he said he was taking Lavender out to a fancy diner. He said he sold an old artifact that he found in his room that was apparently worth a lot. Hermione predictably ran up to her room with barely restrained tears in her eyes. She sat down on the bed with sobs racking her thin frame. I put my arm around her and whispered comforting things into her ear. It was almost a routine by now.

"I g-gave him that for Christmas, it's f-f-from France," she managed to choke out. Wow, that was pretty insensitive even for Ron. After about fifteen minutes of more crying, I finally got Hermione to laugh by calling Ron a nincompoop. After a fit of giggling, Hermione sighed. All of the sudden, she looked up at me with the strangest look in her eyes. Then she did something I only hoped she would do, since I had about zero courage. Why am in Gryffindor? Anyway, it wasn't just a simple peck. It was passionate and everything I hoped it would be. She finally stopped, flustered and a little out of breath. I blushed a bit and look down.

"Sorry…." She mumbled

"Do you regret it..?" I asked softly. She looked me in the eyes.

"No" she whispered. And then she kissed me again. This time it was different; it was desperate. She might have been rebounding after Ron, but I just shoved that thought into an unused corner of my brain.

We were officially dating after that. Of course we never told anyone. A few people might have figured it out, but we never bothered to come out. Being secretive does provide a little spark that makes everything a lot more exciting. It's kind of like wanting what you can't have, if you know what I mean. We would sneak out to our favorite little broom closet, go to the lake if it was warm, or go for a "walk." Even though my grades dropped a bit because of….um… distractions, my fifth year was the best year of my life. I would trade a second of it for any sum of Galleons.

But of course, good things cannot last. The next summer, Lavender Brown dumped my brother for Seamus. Ron promptly asked Hermione out, who dumped me like I was worthless. Maybe I was, but it came as a shock coming from the girl who slept with me and told me she loved me the night before. I locked myself in my room for about a week. I only came down for dinner so my parents would at least know that I was alive, even though I doubt they noticed.

Hermione was spending her glorious days with her fucking knight in shining armor. Lonely I turned to the only friend I could find, my knife. You might think I'm sick, cutting myself, and maybe I am, but there's something gratifying about the pain. It's trading emotional stress for physical pain. I think it's a fair trade. Plus, for only a second, the only thing that matters is steel against your arm and the beating of your heart. It was a second of escape for me, and that's exactly what I needed.

However, to my dismay, my heartbreak never left. It hid for a minute only to come back ten times as strong. That's why I am doing this. I have no regrets, and this isn't anyone's fault but my own. It's not Hermione's fault that I am weak, that I let myself be used, that I can't get over a simple heartbreak. I already have countless scars on my arms; two more on my wrists won't make much of a difference. I doubt anyone will really care that I am gone, because they don't care that I am alive. Mom, Dad and Harry are too busy saving the world, Hermione has Ron and visa versa, and that's about it. The tagalong. The annoying little sister. Not anymore, I'll let them be. So I'll cut my wrists with my knife, a simple object that gives me so much relief and so much pain.

Do you know what's scary about staring death in the eyes? I don't care. I don't care that I never saw France, or only lived to be 15. I don't care that I am getting dizzy. I don't care that I am sitting in a growing pool of my own blood. I don't care anymore…..

Wow, that was pretty fucked up, even for me in all my angsty goodness. I really don't care if my grammar sucks, but I really needed to get some of my anger/depression out on paper.


End file.
